Flying on Clipped Wings
by Aleyerrad
Summary: Of all the markers on his face, he liked them the most. Crow drabble. One-Shot.


**Flying on Clipped Wings**

**Summary:** Of all the markers on his face, he liked them the most.

**A/N:** A Crow drabble that suddenly popped into my mind. Takes place in episode 30, when Crow is escaping after raiding the Security Headquarters in Satellite.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's.

* * *

He remembered the first time he was thrown into the detention centre. The searing, white-hot pain against his forehead wasn't something anyone could forget just like that. There was a reason why it was used as punishment, after all.

Once, he even asked a fellow inmate of what he thought of the markers. Heated glares exchanged, a few cuss words, and the same question repeated forty-seven times later, the man gave in and blurted out his opinion, if only to get him off his tail.

They were the sign of a bird with clipped wings, prisoners in a gilded cage.

They functioned as more than a walking billboard for those who committed crimes and other grievous acts. With everything from their locations down to their private information transmitted to Security databanks, their freedom was stolen in addition to their pride and dignity.

He snorted in agreement. If he was the one to judge, the people from Security were the real criminals. While he stole tangible, replaceable objects, they stole away what was intangible and irreplaceable.

Then he paused in that thought, and he asked himself, "Really?"

He thought about the markers on his face.

A matching, symmetrical pair of markings shaped like tear streaks, a symbol of despair. But because the word 'Despair' was not a word in his dictionary, he could care less for those. The ones that did matter, however, were the ones that were situated in the centre of his forehead.

Of all the markers on his face, he liked them the most.

A pattern in the shape of an 'M', like the silhouette of a bird flying into the azure, and a dot positioned at a forty-five degree angle from it to represent the sun.

Interpreting it otherwise, they represented freedom.

He snickered quietly. How ironic.

If he told the others what he thought of them, they'd think him crazy. Well, Jack definitely would. And so would the man in the detention centre for that matter. Yusei, on the other hand, would go into quiet contemplation.

But he refused to admit that they, of all things, took away his freedom.

The Public Security Maintenance Bureau was filled with foolish people who thought they were at the top of the world. People who thought they could clip the wings of those who sinned with their little laser beam toys. He would show them the true extent of Satellite's perversity.

And now, as the iron fanged gates closed with intent to lock the great Crow-sama behind its metallic bars, Crow smirked. Did they really think that such a thing could steal away his freedom? Then again, considering the brains behind the security system in Satellite, and comparing that to the brains of the one he grew up with, he supposed their oversight could be excused.

Just this once.

He pulled sharply on the handlebars, lifting the Blackbird's front wheel off the ground. With a little boost from the thrusters, Crow was flying over the gates and into the world beyond.

Then the officers came after him, as expected. Foolish, foolish pawns who didn't know when to give up.

But that was fine. That way, he could teach them a lesson.

Which he did, naturally.

Luck was definitely on the officer's side. A Gate Blocker for his Speed Counters, Dust Tornado for Traps, Intercept for Advanced Summoning, and Sakuretsu Armor for Battle; it was a complete lock-down on the first turn.

Only, there was _more_ luck on his side than the officer's.

Leaving the pursuing officer gaping at the play of his epic one-turn kill, he sped down the fractured streets of Satellite as another Security vehicle took up the pursuit.

This time, it wasn't a bike that was after him. It was a patrol car. Bulky, heavy and completely uncouth in its drive, it was a disgrace to be on the road. Ever one to put the Securities to shame, Crow purposefully directed their pursuit of him to the chasm that separated the 'normal' districts of Satellite from the B.A.D zone and, with a smirk, activated his D-Wheel's flight mode.

With a roar of excitement, Blackbird took into the evening sky with a burst of steam from its thrusters. Catching the wind beneath its wings, the vehicle soared into the golden amber sky. Crow whooped in sheer delight as the zephyrs brushed against his skin, the blinding light of the setting sun forming tears in the teen's eyes. And he didn't care.

This was freedom, the one thing he would _not_ allow them to steal from him. He was supposed to be the thief here, not them.

And as the wind buffeted his face, he thought back to that one man.

Markers were the sign of caged birds and clipped wings? Hah! What nonsense.

They were only clipped if you allowed yourself to be clipped.

After all, he had just proven that.


End file.
